


Safe and Sound

by servantofclio



Series: Maeve Surana [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 07:08:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5447690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/servantofclio/pseuds/servantofclio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The assassin and the Warden part from time to time, but they always reunite.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe and Sound

**Author's Note:**

  * For [franda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/franda/gifts).



Zevran was used to the routine by now. He had taken a room in the inn two nights previously, and had used the majority of his time scouting out the town and its immediate countryside. By now, he knew three ways to make a quick exit from the inn unobserved, and had established two supply caches nearby just in case. In the meantime, he had established himself as a fixture in the inn’s tavern—playing cards, drinking, flirting with with pretty barmaid as well as the stablehand (a strapping young man, all things considered, if still a little weedy). His Warden was overdue by now, but there was no real cause for alarm yet. One or the other of them was often a day or two late.

The door opened, and although Zevran was adept in appearing not to look at the latest entrant, he noticed her right away. Ah, there she was, shaking damp off her cloak and throwing back her hood. It was a marvel to him how easily she went unrecognized. She should have drawn every eye, but no, people ignored the elf woman, seeing her staff as no more than a walking stick (in truth, it was little more) and her blade as no more than a traveler’s means of defense (rather than the ancient weapon of a magical warrior that it was). Their eyes passed right over her slight frame and marked face as if she were inconsequential.

The more fools, they. Her own eyes passed over the crowd and alighted on Zevran without delay, though she had to slip between the taller humans to make her way to his seat.

“Amora,” he greeted her.

“Ma vhenan,” she replied, settling in the seat next to his. Endearments, but also a long-established signal: no pursuit and no watchers that they were aware of. If matters were otherwise, they would have greeted each other in the common tongue, and readied themselves for an ambush.

But as it is, his beloved could relax into her seat while he draped an arm over her shoulders and waved at the cook for another bowl of stew. “Making yourself at home, I see,” she said.

“Home is where you are, my heart,” Zevran replied cheerfully.

His Warden chuckled. “I would have been earlier, but I happened upon a pair of your former fellows on the road a few days ago. It took a little time to deal with them.”

“All went well, I trust,” he said with a smile, keeping an eye on the crowd. No one seemed to be paying undue amounts of attention to them.

“Of course,” she said, and shot a brilliant smile of her own at the barmaid who appeared with a bowl of stew.

Zevran waited until the girl had gone on her way again before murmuring, “I must find some way to thank you, then, for saving my life yet again.”

She snorted. “I did no more than save you a little exercise. They were hardly a challenge for either of us.”

“Nonetheless,” he purred. “I have us a fine room upstairs, with its own fireplace, and I’m sure a little coin would provide bath water.”

The smile she sent him was nothing short of sly, full of promise. “I’m sure we can come up with some way to use that, yes.”

“I have a few ideas,” he said, smiling back.

“Mm. I can hardly wait to see them.”


End file.
